FATHER'S FUNERAL

SEBASTIAN

The departure of my sister seemed like a distant memory now. But the events that followed have had a lasting impact on our pack, dividing us in ways we never thought possible. Mother had grown old, and her hair had turned silver while father had died. At one point, the world around us seemed to come to a standstill; the wind ceased, the river stopped flowing, and even the sweet scent of the flowers dissipated.

Victoria’s absence left my world feeling colder, but I gradually became accustomed to the change. Whenever I was alone, the ache would resurface, lingering until someone or something distracted me. Walking towards me, she appeared like a silhouette, as if stepping out of the photograph I kept on my nightstand. In the picture, we stood together as a family, a pack with a bond that could not be broken, and memories flooded back of a time when life was simpler. 

I longed to have her by my side, to share stories and jokes like we once did, but her absence felt like a weight dragging me down. So I begged her in my mind to please understand that nothing good could come out of it. I held onto the hope that we would be reunited someday, even if it was just a self-deception. We could regain the happiness and closeness we lost if she returned. As time passed, the sharpness of anything could fade away. But not my love for her, my dear sister, Victoria.

“We are ready, my son; your father awaits us!” my mother’s faint voice echoed in my room.

Her eyes were downcast, and her shoulders slumped as she walked - a clear sign she was feeling sad. There was no point in being sad about something or someone that has already passed. Memories of my childhood often center on my father, who took the time to teach me valuable skills like fighting, hunting, and how to defend myself. 

He was there just to teach us how to fight. We sometimes just needed a hug. He was not there; we needed a goodnight kiss. He was never there. And that was all they were going to stay, memories.

“Any news from Victoria?” I heard the same voice, but when naming her, mother went down on a path straight to hell. 

As I shifted my position to face her, I immediately noticed that her face was completely inscrutable, leaving me unsure of her reaction. Peering at her disguised grin, I could sense that she was waiting for me to disclose that Vicky would arrive at any moment now. The feeling of sadness and pain permeated the entire room. I didn’t hold her responsible for feeling scared about what I might say because, in some way, she had a sense of what my response would be.

“Mother…”

And my words got stuck in my throat. 

How could I say this without hurting her? The sense of losing everything I had ever known or cared for hit me hard during that moment, and my world seemed to fade away before my eyes. It was almost as if I could smell her pain, and it made me want to do everything in my power to release her from it. Not only did I perceive her fear of being by herself, but I also picked up on every moment of despair she experienced. 

The feeling came over me. I had to reach out and hold her in my arms. I never did that in my life. And not because of lack of love. But because they raised me not to be weak, I was told hundreds of times a day crying was for fragile people; they taught me to always have a straight position and never turn my back on our enemies. But they never meant me to care, to give a hug, or a kiss.

She melted in my arms, seeking comfort as she buried her face in my chest, her sobs echoing through the room. A new feeling was born; belonging. And it was so damn unfamiliar to me, yet somewhere beneath my heart, I knew this was right.

Despite never holding her, I tried to imagine her perfume, but my mind drew a blank. I held her tightly, hoping to ease our pain and despair, and experience what we had never experienced before. Our embrace was a comforting and familiar place, as if we were two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. Her touch made the room warmer somehow. Oh, and how cold I felt when I had to let her go.

“I am sorry, but she will not be here,” I mumbled, almost whispering into her ear.

I wanted to whisper those words softly to shield her from their harshness.

“I understand…” she muttered almost to herself, but did she really understand? Or her suffering blinded her so much, and she just surrendered without even a fight. “Let us go, Sebastian! We cannot let your father wait any longer.”

We were on our way down the stairs when we noticed the faces of people we knew all too well. Cousin Liam was a welcome sight amidst a sea of unfamiliar faces, including faraway uncles and mysterious aunts. Out of all the people, he was one of the few I truly missed. My Beta, Alexander, took charge of my pack as they guarded the outside in their wolf forms.

“Will you excuse me for a while, Mother?”

I hated to leave her alone, but I had to find out why so many familiar faces, yet unfriendly, came to my father’s funeral. “My dear cousin Liam, I’m glad you could come. My father would have appreciated it.”

I approached him with a warm hug and whispered confidentially in his ear. “Why did all these people come here? Don’t tell me they are mourning, I don’t buy it! My anger was so intense that my voice took on a low, almost animalistic tone, and my eyes turned reddish.

“My deepest condolences, Bash, really, I am sorry!”

Not answering or avoiding the question was not a wise thing to do. But he was Liam, and we liked Liam. “As for those, I really don’t have a clue, but… I shall let the Council know and maybe we can convene a meeting. What do you say?”

Liam knew how to smoothen me, so I voted for that meeting after the funeral.

We didn’t bury our dead in churches or with priests. It was the next in line as an Alpha and a few more of the relatives who carried the coffin to its resting place. I, Liam, and Mother were staying in front of the procession. 

Everyone’s heads were down; Maybe for respect or maybe for fear of yet to come. Mother adorned the primary room where Father was resting with black ornaments, black fabrics on all the chairs, and candles. Their light was dim, exactly like his life in the last couple of years.

I went next to my mother until I and my other cousins from the family would eventually place him in his royal crypt. The coffin was open for everyone to see my father’s weakness and compare now with my strength. I let it this way to be some kind of warning for the intruders to know the pack is not alone.

I was so caught up in scrutinizing the room where my father was laid that it didn’t take me long to see the female figure standing over my father’s coffin. And what seemed even harder to believe was that she was carrying a photo camera.

I felt my blood boiling in my veins, especially since I didn’t know this stranger. She had no business being here.

I approached menacingly and for a few seconds, her floral scent stopped me. It stirred me deeply, a feeling I had never had before. I could feel the wolf in me wanting to come out. My eyes were already red and full of rage. I blinked a few times until I was face to face with her.

The anxiety inside me intensified.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here…Teresa?” I asked her angrily as she set up her camera to take his picture, reading with disdain her name on her badge.

“I just...” she gasped insecurely.

“You get out right now!” I shouted and grabbed her arm. I simply dragged her out of the house.

“Hey, what are you doing? Let me go, you brute!” she screamed, struggling to get out of my grip.

“Let you go, huh? And do what? Go back inside? Who sent you? Who do you work for?” I kept asking her as dozens of eyes were fixed on us.

I even waved my mother off.

“Nobody sent me, I’m a journalist and...” she tried to explain but didn’t finish as she stumbled and fell to the ground.

Something moved in me almost instantly, but I didn’t flinch an inch to help her up.

I expected her to cry. Instead, her eyes looked at me with contempt.

“Don’t let me see you around here again, understand? In fact, pray that our paths never cross again!” 

I returned to my place and held Mother’s shaky hand throughout the whole ceremony. With a simple look, I reassured her that there was nothing to worry about.

She wiped bitter tears, and from time to time she rested on my shoulder. It all seemed so slow I had it in looking at these so-called family faces. I didn’t mourn, nor did I show grief as Mother was, but these guys were too much. They seemed worried, but they were looking for something or someone.

It was time to put Father in his resting place. I once thought he was eternal, but now he went so deep into an unwelcoming world, hurting Mother and separating me from Vicky. Even if he is dead and almost buried. She could not return. It has been so many years since she made a world of her own. She and I always have a sixth sense, a second sight of giving voice to our thoughts.

I watched peacefully as my other cousins, led by Liam, lowered the coffin slightly into the cold, deep grave, the very one to be his house for all eternity. Mother’s tears were like summer rainfall, but she was glaring at the polished casket with soundlessness. I stepped back two inches, establishing like a link to my past.

Vicky, we put Father to rest!